No Reason
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: Suddenly he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the cold cement wall. He was worried about Allison Cameron, the woman he swore that he would never fall in love with...
1. Chapter 1

Hey there again, everyone! I was looking at my stories, and I realized that I had not done my own version of the great episode, No Reason. So I started on this little story. Enjoy, and please remember to review, ducklings!

Disclaimer: They ain't mine. But if they were, that kiss Cameron gave House would NOT have ended there... (grins evilly)

Shout-outs go to Psycho Stryder, for stalking me and demanding that I update Hide And Seek. Hope this'll work until I get that next chapter done and posted!

"Where are you going?" House asked as Foreman pulled his jacket on.

"You're an ass," Foreman stated.

"I know. Where are you going?" House asked again.

"This is either a toxin, an infection, or an allergic reaction. I assume you gave him Epi, so that rules out allergies. Put him on antibiotics in case it's an infection. And if it's a toxin, we'll keep him here overnight, let the swelling go down, and send him home. I'm going to the movies." As Foreman turned to walk out of the meeting room, the door open, and a balding man stepped inside.

"Which one of you is House?" the man demanded, his eyes skittering around the room.

"The skinny brunette," House answered casually, turning his back on the man to return to the whiteboard.

"No, that's Dr. Cameron," the man insisted, and House turned his head and looked at the man inquisitively.

"I'm skinny. How do you know her name?" he questioned.

Cameron was watching the interaction between the two men, and something felt wrong about the whole situation. She took a step toward House, then another.

"I was a patient of yours," the man said as he reached into the pocket of his jacket. Cameron saw the glint of cold metal, and it was as though time had been slowed to a near halt as the man pulled the gun out and aimed it at House.

"Gun!" she heard herself scream as she put herself between House and the bullet, and she heard shouts of protests as the bullet burned through her vulnerable flesh.

The man wielding the gun looked at her on shock, and she looked down at the blood that was spurting from her stomach. She remained on her feet despite her lightheadedness. The man's expression changed, and he raised the gun and pulled the trigger again, despite the angry shouts of her colleagues.

"Cameron!" The terrified voice of her boss shouting her name jolted her, and she turned her head to looked at him just before she crumbled to the ground.

He screamed her name, and she looked at him before her eyes rolled up into her head and she started to fall to the ground. He wasn't fast enough to catch her, but Foreman was, and House kneeled down beside them and immediately began applying pressure to the wounds.

By then, security had ran into the room and was shoving handcuffs onto the man, and House looked up at Chase and began shouting orders at him. Once he was gone, House returned his attention to the wounded duckling. As he applied pressure to the wounds, she coughed and stirred in Foreman's arms.

"Relax," House said gruffly when she tried to sit up. "You were shot twice. Don't move around."

Chase returned a few minutes later with several nurses and a stretcher, and as Foreman laid Cameron on it, House began barking at the nurses. "Two GSW's, one to the abdomen, one to the chest."

Cameron tried to make sense of what House was saying, but the voices around her were becoming blurred and distorted, and she was losing her concentration. She felt Foreman place her on the stretcher, and she coughed and struggled to breathe. "House," she gasped, and she saw him appear through her blurred vision.

House heard her call his name, and he moved to stand beside her stretcher. "I'm right here, Cameron," he said, his voice less gruff than usual.

A thin line of blood appeared from the corner of her mouth, and he shuddered at the scarlet color. Her hand raised up from the stretcher and reached out to him, and he ignored the questioning eyes as he wrapped his long fingers around her too cold hand.

Her eyes slid shut again, and as House watched the nurses wheel the gurney away, he felt an emotion that was terribly foreign and painful. Worry. He was worried about her.

Suddenly he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the cold cement wall. He was worried about Allison Cameron, the woman he swore that he would never fall in love with.

A cold lump of fear formed in the pit of his gut as he realized that he wasn't just worried about her. He was terrified for her. Greg House was never terrified about anything, let alone another human being. But as he watched them wheel Cameron's gurney away, he felt a pain that he thought he could no longer feel.

After a few moments, he ignored the concerned comments of the male ducklings and Wilson, and he limped in the direction of where they had been taking his only female duckling. He finally found the room that they had taken her to, and he screamed at the large nurse who blocked the entrance to the examination room.

"Get out of my way!"

The nurse crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Dr. House, you know the rules, even though you refuse to follow them. You know that you can't be in there."

He was about to scream again, but a hand on his shoulder cut him off mid-breath, and he spun around to face the owner of the hand.

"House, you need to back off and let them do their work," Wilson said quietly, and House glared at him. But Wilson wasn't fazed. He only tightened his grip on House's shoulder as he said, "Come on, House. There's nothing we can do right now. Let them work."

House maintained his stance for a few more seconds. Then his shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly followed Wilson to the nearest waiting room, where he collapsed onto one of the couches and buried his face in his hands. The newest emotion that had now overwhelmed him was more confusing and disillusioning than the last.

Helplessness.

Gregory House had never known helplessness, and he hated the bitter, metallic taste that it created in his mouth.

Soon they weren't alone as, one by one, Foreman, Chase, then Cuddy joined them to wait in their silent reverie. But House didn't acknowledge their presences and quiet conversation as he continued to wait impatiently for word on his injured Cameron.

TBC...

A/N: Ooh... I'm so evil. Cliffhanger. (ducks flaming sporks and left shoes thrown by readers and PsychoStryder) Review, my ducklings! Review!


	2. Walking After Midnight

Alright, I know it's been a while since I updated this one, but a certain friend (glares at Essy) pestered me and poked me until I finally updated. So here we go! Enjoy, and please remember to review!

Disclaimer: Not mine. But oh the fun I'd have if they were...

Thanks go out to everyone who reviewed and added this story to their favorites and alerts lists. Thanks!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

It was nearly midnight, and the waiting room was brightly lit. After spending a few hours in their prospective fields, Cuddy and Wilson were sitting side by side on one couch, and Chase and Foreman each occupied different chairs.

But House was standing up, limping anxiously around the waiting room as he had for the past six hours, only stopping when he needed another cup of coffee for energy.

Wilson and Cuddy could see the pain and conflict in his stormy eyes, but neither of them attempted to console him. He simply refused to accept any of their words. And they all knew that the only person he would listen to was the one person who couldn't talk to him.

Cuddy felt a large, warm hand slide into hers, and she exhaled slowly, squeezing Wilson's fingers gently.

"She's in good hands," Wilson murmured into her ear, and she swiped at her eyes and nodded slowly.

Finally, after another excruciatingly slow hour had passed, Dr. Patterson appeared in the room, and House looked up from the worn piece of carpet he had been staring intently at. He examined the other doctor's face, and from the expression that the man wore, House knew that the news he carried was not what he wanted to hear.

Wilson rose to his feet and shook Patterson's hand. "Dave," he greeted the man cordially, informally. "How is she?"

Patterson, knowing the reputation of the infamous House, spoke warily. "Dr. Cameron… is alive. And that in itself is saying a lot."

The rest was lost on House, who had closed his eyes and was leaning heavily on a cold wall. His ears pricked up when Patterson finally said, "Someone can go in there with her."

No one was really surprised when House followed Patterson to her room, and they were even less surprised when he sat down in the chair beside her bed and made himself comfortable.

He watched with possessive eyes as Cuddy, Wilson, and each of the remaining ducklings came into the room and briefly spoke to Cameron's unconscious form.

When they had all left, and only when they had left, did he let his guard down. Looking around the room, he sighed and shifted in the chair, producing two Vicodin and popping them into his mouth.

"You're a moron," he muttered to Cameron's unconscious form. "Taking a bullet for me? What were you thinking?"

She didn't respond.

He sighed quietly, and, in a moment of rare weakness, he reached out and trailed his fingers along the soft skin of her arm.

"You shouldn't have done it," he continued in a slightly softer tone. "He was trying to hurt me. Why did you have to be so damn protective?"

"Because she's Cameron," someone quietly stated, and House tensed and unconsciously closed his hand over her arm.

Wilson closed the door behind himself and walked over to the foot of Cameron's bed.

"What do you want, Wonder Boy?" House demanded, and it didn't escape Wilson that the blue eyed doctor's hand was closed protectively over the female duckling's arm.

"She took the bullet because for some reason, she cares about you and she wanted to protect you," Wilson stated, checking her vitals.

House didn't say a word.

"Fine, don't believe me. Ask her yourself when she wakes up," he stated with a shrug. "She'll tell you the same exact thing."

"Of course she would," House muttered. "She's in love with me, remember?"

Wilson didn't hear a shred of sarcasm or venom in that statement. All he heard was pain, and it sent him reeling. He finished checking Cameron's vitals, then walked to the door. But before he walked through it, he turned his head and watched them for a moment.

House was sitting in the chair by Cameron's bed, but he wasn't House. He wasn't the bitter, sarcastic, angry, cynical man he had known for years. All of that was gone, replaced by something he couldn't quite identify. And maybe he wasn't supposed to. Maybe this had happened for a reason, a reason that was beyond even Cameron's understanding.

Had she done it out of instinct? Or had it been something deeper, something stronger? Was it just a reaction? Or was it an act of self sacrifice? Had she done it out of some misplaced sense of duty? Or had she simply done it to protect the man that, for some unknown reason, she had fallen in love with?

He couldn't answer any of these questions. Only Cameron could. And he knew that House needed those answers, too.

_Gett better, Cameron,_ he thought, glancing at her prone form one more time before he left the room. _For his sake._

House heard Wilson leave, and once again, he was alone with the female duckling. As he ran his hand over his face, he realized too late that he had his hand closed around her arm, and he just knew that Wilson had seen it. Great.

He looked at the watch on his wrist. Two in the morning. He had been in there for twenty minutes, and somehow he knew he wasn't going to leave. He didn't understand the need he had to stay there, but for some strange reason, he didn't feel the need to question it. She had saved his life. For whatever reasons she had in her overly do good mind, she had taken two bullets that were meant to kill him.

And then it hit him. She could have _died. _When the gun was going off, one of the bullets could have struck her heart, or any of her other major organs, killing her instantly. Or she could have bled out, right there in the meeting room.

Then again, there were no guarantees that she _wouldn't_ die. He looked at her upper body, her bare shoulders and the bandages that were wrapped tightly around her chest. Almost unconsciously, he reached out and pulled the blanket up, covering the bandages.

Then, in a move that he almost didn't recognize as his own, he reached out and brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek, then rested his large hand over her smaller one. The warmth that radiated from her body reassured him, even if he didn't think he deserved it.

"I'll make you a deal," he finally whispered in a voice he didn't know. "You wake up and be okay… And I'll take you to another monster truck rally, okay?"

His question was met with complete silence.

TBC...

A/N: Well, there ya'll have it. I already have the next chapter written, so review and I'll update again soon! Thanks for reading!


	3. Favoritism

Wow, ya'll were pretty excited about my last update. That makes me feel great about this story! And that helps, cause I have no idea where to go. I considered ending it with this chapter, but I figured that if I did, I'd probably get lynched... Didn't want that, so I'm continuing the story. So enjoy, and please remember to review!

Disclaimer: Is Cameron molesting House in Wilson's office? Is Cuddy taking advantage of Wilson in her office? Then they're not mine... darn it...

Shout outs go to Essy and Psycho, two of my biggest readers and reviewers. Thanks, girls!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"House!" Cuddy shouted, storming into his office. "Clinic! Now!"

But his office was glaringly empty, and she sighed when she realized where he was. An entire month had passed since the shooting, and when he needed to get away, or nine times out of ten when he just didn't want to be bothered, he was in her room.

She walked back out of his office and headed in the direction of Cameron's room. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and looked inside. Sure enough, he was sitting in the chair by her bed, and she could hear him speaking softly.

"… It's been a whole month now, Cameron," she heard him murmur. "The other idiots are beginning to claim favoritism. Even if you are my favorite…"

She cleared her throat quietly, and she saw his shoulders stiffen before he turned his head to look at her. "What do you want, Master? I'm a bit busy," he muttered, turning his head back to Cameron.

"Clinic duty," she stated firmly. "You can come back after you do two hours."

It was a testament to his state of mind when he simply stood up and limped away slowly from Cameron's bed. Cuddy stepped aside and let him pass, shutting the door behind him.

Now it was only her and Cameron, and she shyly approached Cameron's bed. A few seconds passed in silence before she finally found her voice. "I… I didn't think it was possible," she said quietly. "But he's lost without you."

Her comment was met with silence, and she battled mentally for a moment before she slid into House's still warm chair. "He actually does clinic work, and he solves cases. But he doesn't harass me, Wilson, Chase or Foreman. He just comes in, does his hours, then comes back here to sit with you."

"It's frightening, actually, Cameron. He's not himself." She leaned forward in the chair and rested her elbows on her knees. "He hasn't been himself for the past month. He's so… unsure, and afraid, almost. We don't even know how to talk to him anymore."

She covered her eyes with her hands and rubbed at them, missing the way Cameron's hand twitched slightly.

After another few moments, she pushed herself to her feet and headed towards the door. "Wake up soon, Cameron," she said quietly. "For all of our sakes." _But mostly for his_, she added mentally. Then she walked out of the room.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Her mind was in a fog, but as the moments passed, a fiery ache grew in her chest and stomach. A soft groan passed her lips, and she began trying to claw her way back to consciousness. Her eyelids felt like weights, but she finally managed to open them, and a calming darkness met her gaze.

For a few moments she just laid there, blissfully unaware of the month that had transpired. Then…

She gasped raggedly as the memories attacked her. The gunman. House. Pushing House out of the way. The bullets hitting her. The iron taste as blood filled her lungs and mouth. House. Being laid on a stretcher as she floated in and out of awareness. House.

House. She groaned again and tried to moisten her mouth, but it felt like it was full of cotton balls. Her eyes slid shut, and she forced them open again, then tried to speak.

"H-House…" Her voice was little more than a whisper, and she winced at the scratchy sound of it. She took a deep breath, immediately regretting it when her chest tightened painfully. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes again. "House?"

A nurse scurried into the room at the change in her vitals, and when she saw that Cameron was awake, her eyes widened. She walked over to the bed and began checking her vitals. "Dr. Cameron, good to see that you're awake!" she exclaimed, moving the blanket so she could check the bandages on Cameron's chest and abdomen.

She tried to speak, but found it too hard with her dry mouth. The nurse saw this and produced a cup, then poured ice chips into it. "Here, try this, sweetheart," she murmured, gently spooning a few chips into Cameron's mouth.

Cameron accepted them gratefully, letting them melt on her tongue and slide down her aching throat. "Where's...where's Dr. House?" she asked, thankful that her voice was stronger after the ice chips. "Is he okay?"

The nurse's eyebrows furrowed. "Of course he is, Doctor. It's you we've been worried about," she assured her.

She nodded, but her stomach was still churning, and she slowly settled back against the pillows. Sleep was threatening to take her, but she fought it and turned her head so she could look at the nurse. "Can you… get him?" she asked groggily.

"Who, honey? Dr. House?" Nurse Frey asked, and Cameron nodded. "Okay, I'll run and get him. You just try to relax."

Cameron watched as she scribbled something on her clipboard, then hurried out of the room. Alone again, she groaned and rested her hand on her chest as she tried to relax. It wasn't working. The pain was becoming more intense, and she struggled against it.

As she walked out of the room, Nurse Frey spotted Dr. Wilson, and she walked up to him. "Dr. Wilson," she said, barely containing her excitement.

"What is it, Brenda?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of himself.

"It's Dr. Cameron! She's awake!"

Wilson's eyes widened. Cameron was awake? "Really? How is she? Is she… okay?"

"Other than the pain in her chest and abdomen, she seems to be fine. And she's asking for Dr. House."

Wilson's eyes went wide in surprise. "She is?" Frey nodded, and he smiled widely at her. "Well, let's not keep her waiting. I'll go get him. You go let Dr. Cuddy know she's awake, all right?"

Frey nodded and walked away quickly, while Wilson nearly ran in the direction of House's office. He couldn't keep the ridiculous grin off of his face as he knocked once, then burst into the room.

"House?" He looked around the dark office, sighing when he noticed the figure lying on the couch. He shut the door and walked over, crouching down beside the couch. "House?" He called his name tentatively, and was rewarded with an annoyed groan.

"Go away, Wilson," he growled, his voice muffled by the couch cushion.

Wilson smirked. "No can do, buddy. You're being paged," he stated, pushing at House's shoulder.

"Tell the wicked witch to drop dead," he muttered, burying his face further into the cushion.

He would never admit it, but he had missed that sarcasm. "Cuddy's not the one paging you, House."

"Go away," he growled again, and Wilson poked him in the side, then rose to his feet.

"Fine, House. I guess I'll just tell Cameron that you're sleeping," he said casually.

House instantly shoved himself upright, his piercing stare focused on Wilson. "You had better not be screwing with me," he threatened.

Wilson held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Go see for yourself. She's asking for you."

House stared at him for a moment, then grabbed his cane and pushed himself to his feet. Wilson followed him out of the office with a grin.

Doctors and nurses were rushing in and out of Cameron's room when Wilson and House arrived, but that didn't deter him. He pushed past all of them and limped into her room, his heart pounding furiously.

He saw her, but her eyes were closed, and one glare sent every person scurrying out of the room, until it was only him and her who remained.

He shuffled closer, and for a brief moment, he wondered if it had all been a cruel hoax. But then her hand twitched, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He moved a little closer.

The noise was suddenly gone, and she wondered if everyone had finally left. Their questions and prodding had kept her from sleeping, and now she was tired and all she wanted was House and to be able to sleep. She didn't care if it was childish or not. She rolled over onto her side and tucked her hands under her cheek, ignoring the pain that flared.

He saw her roll onto her side, and he quietly moved to the bed and sat down in his chair. "You've had my attention for a whole month. Kind of drastic, don't you think?" he asked, startling her.

She hesitated before carefully rolling onto her other side and coming face to face with House. She wanted to reach out, to be sure that he was there, but she kept her hand where it was. Then his words sank in. "A m-month?" she repeated hoarsely in disbelief.

He nodded. "I did everything I could think of to get you to wake up, short of killing Wombat Boy. Maybe I should've done that, too," he added as an afterthought.

She couldn't help but smile, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. "Are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?" she demanded, pushing herself up in the bed.

He saw her wince, and he realized that she was probably still sore. He stood up and gently pushed her back against the pillows, muttering, "I'm fine, Cameron. He didn't touch me."

She reluctantly settled back against the pillows, her eyes still scanning him critically.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until she yawned and blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she murmured, and he rolled his eyes and leaned forward in the chair.

"Go back to sleep," he muttered gruffly, pulling the blanket over her again.

"Don't wanna sleep," she yawned, and a small smile touched his lips.

He waited for a few minutes, then tried to stand up. But her hand shot out, her fingers curling around his wrist.

"Please, don't go," she pleaded, her voice barely a weak whisper.

He looked down into her clouded, pain filled eyes, and even though it went against almost everything in him, he sat back down. "Sleep," he ordered again in his gruff voice, gently prying her hand away from his wrist.

She turned over awkwardly onto her side, and he pulled out his Gameboy and began playing it, occasionally stealing glances at her sleeping form.

Distressed when he realized that he was no longer able to concentrate on the game, he finally said, "Good night, Cameron."

She slept on.

TBC...

A/N: Okay, what'd ya'll think? I know some of you are thinking, "Good, she didn't end it there. But darn, I've got my pitchfork ready and everything!" Eep... Please remember to review, and I'll get an update posted as soon as I can.


	4. Dreams And Dominance

Well, here it is, everyone. This is the final chapter of No Reason, as ya'll have so patiently waited for. Thanks for reading, and I hope ya'll enjoy the conclusion of this pesky little story!

Disclaimer: Not mine! Not mine! (checks in turkey) Still not mine!

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has been reading, reviewing, and adding this story to their favorites or alerts. It really means a lot to me, and I hope ya'll will continue to read my stories! Thanks again!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Cameron laughed and stepped away, switching her cotton candy to her left hand and poking her tongue out at House.

"Keep it up, and I'll show you what else you can do with that tongue," House growled, waggling his dark eyebrows suggestively.

She grinned and smacked him playfully, to which he cried out, "Abuse!"

Rolling her eyes, she tore off a piece of the pink cotton candy and stuffed it into her mouth, then said, "It's only abuse if you don't like it."

"Who says I like it?"

She raised one eyebrow and rolled her blue green eyes again. Looking out at the waves crashing against the sandy shore, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

He saw the look in her eye, and he said, "What are you thinking of now? How to kill me and dispose of the body?"

She silenced him with a long, deep kiss, nearly dropping her cotton candy as she tasted the beer and fries he had eaten earlier in the recesses of his mouth. When she pulled away, his eyes were nearly closed, and she smirked and slid her hand into his, pulling him in the direction she wanted to go.

He followed her, his mind still reeling from the kiss. She came to a stop, and he watched in amusement as she shed her shoes and stepped onto the warm sand.

"Come on," she urged, gently tugging on his arm.

He frowned and held up his cane. "As much as I would love to..."

She took the cane from him and laid it in the sand. Then she pulled his arm around her shoulders, smiling at the questioning look on his face. "Trust me," she said softly, and that's when it hit him. He did. He trusted her.

So he took a step forward, and they quickly fell into an easy pattern. And when they finally reached the water's edge, she gently released his arm and flopped down onto the sand, motioning for him to follow her.

He carefully lowered himself onto the sand beside her, watching as she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, the wind whipping through her tousled hair.

"It's beautiful out here," she murmured, sighing softly.

Her contentment spilled over into him, and he didn't stop his hand when it drifted over to rest on her back. The move surprised him, though. But if he thought about it, it sort of made sense. In the two months that had passed since the shooting, it seems that these little moves were happening more and more. And while it might have unnerved him, even terrified him a year or so ago, now... now it didn't. It made him nervous as hell at some points, but it didn't scare him.

Cameron felt his hand on her back, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she stared at the crashing waves. The warmth from the water washed over her, but it didn't compare to the warmth that was radiating from his body being so close. Suddenly an even stronger urge overwhelmed her, and she dared to move a little closer to him.

He turned his head and looked at her in surprise.

She pretended not to notice his surprise, and a few minutes later, she moved even closer until her side was resting against his.

Again he stared at her, and when she smiled at him, his arm snaked around her and pulled her closer. "If I get cooties, I'm suing," he complained, a grin tugging at the corner of his handsome mouth.

"You won't get anything. My boss severely underpays me," she retorted.

"Really? I was told he overpays you."

She dissolved into laughter. Not the kind of little giggles that she so often tried to repress at work, but full bodied laughter that shook them both. He quickly decided that he liked it.

When her laughter faded, they fell into a content silence, punctuated occasionally by a soft sigh or the sound of the waves hitting the shore close to their feet.

"What was it like?" House asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

She turned her head and looked at him curiously. "What was what like?"

"You know... when you were in the coma."

She sighed heavily and brought her leg up to her chest again, wrapping her other arm around it as she searched for an answer. Finally she said softly, "Do you want the truth?"

"Yes."

"It was... like I was sleeping. I dreamed, or remembered. I'm not really sure exactly which."

"Dreamed? About what?"

She shrugged a little. "Different things."

"What kind of different things?"

She turned her head to meet his eyes, and that's when he saw the tears. But then she blinked, and they were gone.

"You can tell me," he cajoled, gently nudging her shoulder.

Finally she answered in a voice so soft, he thought he had imagined it. "You."

"Me?" he repeated in a surprised voice.

She nodded.

"Why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged again.

"Let me get this straight. You dreamed about me, in your coma?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "It wasn't so much dreams as it was memories. And I-" Her voice was cut off by his lips on hers, and her eyebrows nearly reached her hairline in surprise.

He was surprised by his own body, but once she began reacting to the kiss, he didn't bother pulling away.

As she sank into his embrace and deepened the kiss, her heart dipped and soared up again. She felt his hand travel up her back and into her hair, and she retaliated by sliding her own hand under his shirt and caressing his back.

He shuddered, and she couldn't help but grin and giggle into his mouth.

At her laugh, he pulled away and studied her curiously. "What?" he demanded in a low growl.

She grinned again and smoothed her thumb over his jaw. "Nothing," she said reassuringly, drawing him in for another kiss.

He didn't believe her, but he allowed her to pull him closer and claim his mouth with hers.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her fingers threaded through his hair as their tongues dueled for dominance.

And when their bodies finally gave in and melded, the only witness was the pale moon, and the ocean waves that lapped at the sand.

The End

A/N: Well, there ya'll have it. Thanks a lot for sticking with me through this whole darned thing, and I hope this was the ending ya'll were hoping for. Thanks again, and please remember to review!


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